Extraits

"No biting, you little fucker!" I punched the top of his head, my fist going straight through the bone and into the grey mass. The smell that erupted from his skull brought my gorge right up and out.

"You are of the devil and I cast you out," he yelled, flicking holy water on me.

I couldn't stop the laugh that leapt out of me. "Oh my. Please, throw some more lukewarm water on me. l'm trembling with fear all the way down to my tight little ass."

2

Back inside the house, I let Alex out of my room and then cleaned up my hands, the raw skin biting at me with the antiseptic cleaner. Muttering under my breath, I wrapped my hands as best I could. It wouldn’t take me long to heal. I wasn’t near as fast as Alex, but still faster than the average human.

I cursed my way out to the main living area, my words stilling on my tongue as I took in the scene. Giselle sat in the corner of the window seat, staring out into the evening sky. Alex was curled up beside her, pointing at things.

1

I hung from the ceiling of my bedroom, my arm muscles trembling under the strain of holding up me and the twenty-five pound sack of potatoes tied to my waist. The thick rope I’d wrapped around my right arm was frayed and rough, usually a good surface to grip, but not so much today. Sweat dripped from my body, making it hard to hang on. In nothing but a black tank top and stretchy jeans, I fought to keep up the pace I’d started with three hours before, my breathing harsh even to my own ears. I was desperate to stop my mind from going where it wanted to go. My workouts had always been an escape for me, but today even pushing my body to the edge of exhaustion wasn’t keeping the flutter of anxiety in my gut still.

O’Shea still hadn’t come back. It had been over a month since he’d been infected with the werewolf virus. A few months ago, I wouldn’t have cared what happened to the FBI agent, he’d been a thorn in my ass for years. Then things had changed between us; he’d saved my life and I’d saved his. I’d thought I’d found a man who could stand with me in my world, be a part of my life. But maybe not. The supernatural world was a hard place to live, the learning curve deadly for most, especially for humans coming into it.

“Are you going to sit down, so we can speak?” He opened the folder and drew out sheets of paper clipped together.

I folded my arms over my chest, tucking my bandaged hands away from sight. “No, I’ll stand.”

“So be it. But I will warn you, this is going to be a long conversation.”

Snorting, one corner of my lips lifted. “I doubt that very much.”

“Giselle, are you hungry?”

Alex flipped himself over backwards, scrabbling across the hardwood floor, the silver tips of his fur catching the light. He slid to a stop at my feet and rolled huge amber eyes up to mine.

“Hungry, yes!”

Giselle chuckled to herself. “Socks, have you got your blue socks yet? You’ll need them soon.”

Helping her to her feet, I guided her into the kitchen. “No blue socks yet. But when I find them, I’ll let you know.”

“That’s good. Blue socks. You need them for sure.”

The first thing Terese did was make a blood oath with me, one of peace. One that would keep me on the good side of the Coven, regardless of the fact that I was going to kill Milly.

We repeated the necessary words as blood from a finger prick from each of us dropped into an open brazier.

“By blood and oath, a binding tie between magic, death and honor.”

Thank the gods it was simple and no freaking Latin.